Undo Redo
by Min Daae
Summary: 5.13 coda. Sam and Castiel talk. Awkwardly.


_Author's Note: There are a million of these and I think I've read them all. Then I made my own. Deal with it. .../defensive._

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Sam splashed some water on his face and leaned on the counter, staring at his reflection as it dripped down his chin. A half an hour ago he'd been dead. He still moved gingerly, feeling bruised inside where the wood had been; his mouth tasted like blood.

Sam tried not to sigh. He was getting tired of dying. Really, if he was honest, getting tired of _not _dying. It was just repetitive now.

And now Dean had gone out, leaving him alone with a catatonic angel.

Right on cue, a cough came from the next room.

Sam swiped a towel over his face and quickly filled a glass of water, stepping out of the bathroom. Castiel was struggling to sit up, his eyelids fluttering. Sam hesitated, and finally reached out to grip the angel's shoulders and eased him back down. "Hey, Cas. Take it easy. You were just coughing up blood-"

Castiel's hand snapped out and grabbed Sam's wrist too hard, squeezed it, and his eyes opened wide and sought Sam's face. He nearly flinched, but Castiel's eyes flooded with relief. "Samuel," he said, "You're alive."

_Yeah, now, _Sam thought dryly, and blinked. His wrist began to ache with the familiar bruising sensation. "Hey, Cas-"

The angel's eyes felt as though they were boring through his skull. "I am – glad that you survived, Samuel. I believe it is important that you know."

Sam just wanted to wash his mouth out. He sighed. "Okay, Cas. You can relax, and can I have my wrist back?" Castiel's eyebrows worked, and Sam cut him off before he could keep going. "Seriously. You're bruising it."

The angel let go and Sam held out the water. Castiel drank it slowly, staring at Sam all the while. Sam shifted uncomfortably and moved away. "Dean'll probably be back soon," he offered. "I think he just went out for food." Even if Castiel didn't threaten to smite him anymore, Sam still felt…uncomfortable. Castiel seemed to spend the time when he wasn't watching Dean with eyes like he'd found a replacement for God staring suspiciously sideways at Sam. Clearly the angel wasn't wasting trust on the Boy with the Demon Blood. That was…painful. But probably fair.

Castiel was frowning. "He is all right?"

"Yeah, he's all right." Sam rubbed his eyes and let himself sit down, resisting the urge to massage his aching stomach. "—you?"

Castiel thought for far too long, Sam thought, before saying "I am fine," and it sounded more like a question than anything. Sam nodded at the glass dangling almost limply in the angel's fingers.

"Have more of that. Might help." To his surprise, the angel actually lifted the glass to his lips and sipped, watching Sam all the while. He shifted uncomfortably.

"…Cas? You're staring."

The angel cocked his head quizzically, a bit like an inquisitive bird. "I was…uncertain of your survival when I learned you and Dean had gone alone."

Sam swallowed. "Yeah, well…"

"And I felt you die."

He could almost feel his insides throb, like there was still something stuck in there. "Oh." He paused. "…yeah. You can do that?"

"It was…an intentional loophole. Just in case." Sam almost winced and looked aside.

"Well. I'm okay now." He forced a smile and glanced toward the door, hoping for Dean's reappearance to rescue him. No such luck, and Sam could feel Castiel frowning.

"You are uncomfortable," said the angel, and paused. "With me?"

"No-" Sam sighed, rubbed his forehead awkwardly. "That's not – look. I know I'm not exactly your favorite person, that's cool, I get it. It just makes things a little – you know. Awkward." The angel's frown had deepened slowly, and Sam winced and stood up quickly. "Sorry. D'you want a Tylenol or s-"

"I do not dislike you, Samuel."

Sam blinked, completely taken aback. "What?"

Castiel moved like he was going to sit up. "I am concerned that you have misunderstood my feeling toward you," he said.

"No, relax," Sam said hastily. "Don't start coughing up blood or whatever again-"

"It is true that initially I was mistrustful of your intentions and repulsed by your demonic habits," said Castiel, in the same tone he used for giving very bad news. Sam felt his mouth tighten. _Yeah, thanks. _

"Cas, maybe now isn't the…time."

"But that has not been the case for a while." The angel's bright blue eyes stared baldly at Sam. "I am sorry I did not make this clear."

Sam hesitated, and swallowed. "Yeah, well. You were right, weren't you?"

Castiel frowned more deeply. "Samuel-"

"No, it's okay," Sam interrupted, quickly, not sure that he really wanted Castiel to keep talking. "Seriously, I – get it. And if I were you-"

"But you are not," Castiel said, almost sharply, "And I misjudged. You are my friend and I would have killed my sister to ensure you did not die."

Sam felt suddenly ashamed. It was a reminder he shouldn't have needed, but there was always the nagging feeling that Castiel just did things for Dean. It made more sense, all things considered. "Sorry," he mumbled, though. And, "Thanks?"

Castiel nodded firmly. "You are welcome." And he lapsed back onto the pillows. Silence ensued. Sam paced a few steps away, unsure if the nausea was from having been staked or just…shame.

Finally, he spoke up, voice rough. "It…would've worked, wouldn't it." He'd thought it through (very quietly, of course) and it was the only conclusion he could come to. The way Castiel looked away was only confirmation. He took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah…I thought so. Not a bad lie, though."

"It does not matter," said Castiel stiffly.

Sam forced a smile. "Yeah, I think it does. But – thanks. Do you…" He wondered if it was heartless to want to ask Castiel if _he _would ever be willing to kill him, if it came to that. Probably. "Is this gonna – happen again?" He tried instead.

"Is what going to happen again?" Dean threw a paper bag at Sam. "Here, eat something. Feeling all right, Cas?"

"Fine," said the angel, still staring at Sam. "Your brother and I were just talking."

"About what?" Sam felt Dean's gaze swing to him, suspicious. He sat down, starting to feel sick again.

"Nothing, Dean," he said tiredly. Dean looked at Castiel.

"Nothing," the angel echoed, and Sam tried to pretend he didn't feel him frowning at his back.


End file.
